


Wolf 'N Witch

by frozenadventures



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics)
Genre: Broken Families, Death, F/F, F/M, Future Polyamory, Graphic Description of Corpses, Multi, Oz/Tara Challenge, Reconciliation, Ruined marriage, Wolf/pack dynamics, broken relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-31 22:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10908567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenadventures/pseuds/frozenadventures
Summary: This story is a continuation of part of The Seed story from the BtVS comics.  What if Andrew began the spell to bring Tara and Jonathan back, but was stopped by the Scoobies?  What if the magic already took hold and carried out it's own will with a few consequences?Contains graphic scenes of death, corpse descriptions, and other tags to be added.





	Wolf 'N Witch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Little_Bites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Bites/gifts).



> This is set in the BtVS universe (Whedonverse?). I've seen the movie and the tv series, but have almost no experience with the comics. Little_Bites brought this concept up during a conversation and I said I would write a fic about it.
> 
> Keep in mind, BtVS deals with a lot of death and mature themes. If you are easily squicked, please do not start this series.
> 
> If you see something that doesn't make sense (or you know more about), please feel free to leave a comment so I can correct it or do further research. Thank you!

Oz stared across the chasm, the place that had once been his home, Sunnydale. All that was left was the gaping hole, littered with the rubble of his memories. It still amazed him, how the rest of the Scoobies had been able to outpace the sinkhole and escape. All these years later, it still shocked him.

He ran his chipped, black painted nails through his short red hair and heaved a sigh. After the Seed, Twilight, and the re-emergence and subsequent defeat of The Master, he hoped that things would be quiet, at least for a while. That never seemed to be his luck though, since he had joined Willow and her friends that fateful night. Becoming a Scooby had changed him irrevocably and, smiling at the memories, he knew he would never have it any other way.

Turning to leave, the wind whipped past him, bringing a scent to his nose. His eyes widened and he turned quickly, trying to follow the fresh stench of decay. The Hellmouth was gone, so what was causing his stomach to continue sinking and roiling?

The hair on the back of his neck prickled as he swiftly followed the scent, unsure of what he would find, unsure of if he wanted to find anything.

The smell became stronger and his stomach clenched in revolt. Under the small, scraggly remains of a tree was a bloated, baked body. Oz had seen enough bodies to know the bloating could easily be caused by chemicals and gases building up within the body as it decomposed. It wouldn't be a pretty sight or a terribly interesting process, in his mind. The skin was crisp, probably from baking under the hot California sun for who knows how long. He couldn't tell who it had been, but it definitely looked as if it had exploded or been ripped open by scavengers for the poor soul's innards. He felt sick, not only because of the smell, but because some part of him whispered how delicious it would taste. He shivered in disgust, wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth.

Another waft of the wind and he could swear he recognized the scent. Before he could scrutinize the body further, a loud snap came from behind him. He whipped around, lengthening his claws in preparation for an attack. His eyes widened and he suddenly realized why the body's scent seemed so familiar.

A wave of magic barreled into him, throwing him back twenty feet through the air and landing with a dull thud and thick cloud of dry dust and dirt that surrounded him. Coughing, he stood, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck. He had no doubt that if he had been human or hadn't begun to wolf-out, he would have been a goner.

He shook his head, thick waves of dust falling from it comically. He let out a weak cough and looked back toward the lone tree. Where was she? Where was Tara?

Oz heard a sound behind him and turned. He took a few steps back and held his hands up in a gesture of peace. Standing in front of him, dry blood smeared across her bare body, blonde hair tangled into so many mats, eyes wild, stood Willow's dead girlfriend.

“Tara...Tara, how? I mean...” He took a tentative step toward her, confusion running across his face. “Andrew never finished the spell, we stopped him.” Looking back toward the tree again, his face fell. “And Jonathan...”

Tara looked at him like he was crazy or spouting jibberish. She cocked her head to the side inquisitively, much like a dog would when listening to its master. The strange gesture made him wonder if she understood him at all.

“I mean, Tara, do you know who I am? Where we are?” He sniffed the air, taking in her scent. She smelled like dirt blood, and though he had only met her briefly once before, he recognized her scent...with something else, something different.

He fell to the ground, clutching his head and howling in pain. Distant, responding howls came across the valley, echoing his call. His skull felt like it was being split open and electricity sparking through the rifts. His nose was bleeding at an alarming rate.

Just as suddenly as it began, the pain faded. Oz gave a whimper, his shoulders spasming with his sobs. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, pulling his hoodie sleeve down to clear the blood from his face. He coughed up a ball of bloody phelgm and stood, spinning woozily.

“I speak now. Tara. My name. You...familiar.” She smiled, standing up a little straighter but looking just as feral. “I magics you. I magics lot. Fun.”

Oz nodded, rubbing his right temple. “So I noticed.” It seemed weird that she didn't remember who he was. Maybe something had gone wrong with the spell? Well, that's probably what happens when you interrupt mid-way. He didn't understand all of the logistics of magic, but he could recognize that things weren't as they should be. This wasn't the Tara his friends had lost. He had to figure out what was happening, but he would bet the over powered magic she seemed to wield was part of it.

He fought himself for a moment – how was he going to deal with this? Tara had never been his friend. In fact, the one time they had met, he nearly killed her. There was no way he could just take her back to his friends; what would they say and how would they react, especially with her in this feral state, no real memories, and an overzealous use of magic? Maybe if he could help her be more civilized and gain control over her memories and powers, it wouldn't be such a shock.

“Tara, do you...think I could help you? You would like that, wouldn't you? We could find shelter, out of the desert, away from...” he looked back toward the tree and the body rotting beneath it, “all of this. Maybe, you could tell me how all of this happened.”


End file.
